


Gentle Loving

by masi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nijimura continues to have problems with his neighbor. (Sequel to “Nijimura’s New Neighbor.”)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentle Loving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pennyofthewild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennyofthewild/gifts), [LuckyClover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyClover/gifts).



> More Nijmura and Himuro shenanigans, as requested by Lucky Clover and pennyofthewild.

Tatsuya has become one of Shūzō’s closest friends, maybe the closest, both literally and figuratively, so it’s more than a little weird when Tatsuya decides to kiss him.

It’s the night before their Winter Break, and they’ve just had dinner at the cheap Thai restaurant located at the end of their block. This is nothing special or strange. They were walking back, had just stepped onto the narrow sidewalk that stretches between their apartment buildings, and Shūzō was rubbing his hands together to warm them up, was saying something like, “So, I guess I’ll see you in a couple of weeks,” he can’t remember the exact words anymore, when Tatsuya leaned in, tugged him down, and brushed his lips over Shūzō’s mouth. A quick touch of lips, that’s all, but Shūzō feels disoriented and shaky, like he used to when he was a short little kid and his older cousins found it fun to grab him by the feet and dangle him upside down.

“Sorry,” Tatsuya says now, looking at him carefully. “Was that inappropriate?”

Shūzō is about to wipe his lips on the back of his hand when his good sense kicks in and halts the movement. Just in time. Tatsuya is getting ready to put his Mask of Friendliness back on. 

Shūzō recognizes the process now. Step one, relax the mouth into an amiable upward tilt. Step two, force a smile into the eyes. Step three -

“Sorry,” Tatsuya says, using the exact same tone employed when he bumps into anyone on the street or accidentally steps on someone’s shoes in the train. “Forget this ever happened. The end of term exams have really done a number on me, huh?” He laughs, a quick, hollow sound.

“Cut that out,” Shūzō says, on autopilot. 

He has said this line to Tatsuya many, many times in the past two years, ever since they became friends. At first glance, Tatsuya doesn’t seem like the type of guy who needs constant reprimanding, not like Haizaki or Aomine, but the truth is that he does, that he is worse in a way because he internalizes all of his problems while displaying an I’m Perfectly Fine face. He needs to be carefully watched for signs of trouble and yelled at as soon as they are spotted, or else the problem will fester and bloom.

Clearly, Shūzō hasn’t been watching Tatsuya closely enough. This kiss came out of the blue. His first kiss after a long drought, and not only was it surprising and unsettling, but it was as unfulfilling as the ones before, the ones that were with strangers as conclusions to awful dates, that involved a lot of awkward fumbling around. Very far off the mark from that perfect kiss he occasionally dreams about, a slow and sweet one, performed underneath proper lighting, a kiss that segues into a beautiful relationship filled with love and great companionship. Here he is, kissed in an almost experimental fashion by a guy who is his neighbor and platonic friend. 

Shūzō occasionally wonders why he bothers with Himuro Tatsuya. Between his university studies and his menial, spirit-crushing job, he really doesn’t have time to waste trying to decipher cryptic guys. He should have kept this a strictly neighborly relationship, yos and how are yous whenever they see each other on the sidewalk, the occasional basketball game at the court behind their apartment buildings, coffee dates once in a blue moon. His other friends are low-maintenance, macho types, who like to spend time talking about how their favorite team is going to crush all the others this season and how hot that chick last night was, not brood about past events. 

Tatsuya is easy to be around only sometimes; for example, while they are eating dinner together in his apartment, Tatsuya might talk about the recipe he used for the Fusion dish they are consuming, and his voice is kind of soothing then. Shūzō can just nod along and enjoy the meal. And Tatsuya always visits with hot chocolate or soup whenever Shuzo has a cold and makes him him watch stupid YouTube videos and silly rom-coms and dramas, tells him dumb jokes, and most importantly, doesn’t talk about basketball, talent, and the future at all. Those days are nice. Also, sometimes Tatsuya willingly shares the happier parts of his life with Shūzō, shows him recent Facebook photos of L.A. and of his strange cousins, or brings Shūzō along on the lunch dates he has with his easygoing, doting parents. That’s nice too.

But Tatsuya is also the annoying guy who drags Shūzō along to boring parties that are full of English majors and other artsy types, where Shūzō doesn’t know anyone and has to spend the night watching girls and the occasional guy all ogle and flirt with Tatsuya. He has to listen to comments like “wow, you’re really tall, Nijimura-kun, do you play basketball” and field questions about Teiko. And if anyone rubs Tatsuya the wrong way, Shūzō is the one who has to deal with Tatsuya’s bad mood the morning after.

Tatsuya also takes him to billiard halls. They have to spend hours there, Shūzō missing shots and trying not to get into fistfights with stupid people, while Tatsuya poses with the cue stick and pockets the eight ball into the hole, looking almost as beautiful as he does when he jumps up for a Mirage Shot. Elbows shouldn’t be that attractive. He will lean over the table, his perfect ass in Shūzō’s face, and wow, now that Shūzō thinks about it, Tatsuya must have been giving him hints for a long, long time and he simply chalked that all up to Tatsuya just having foreign airs, or being the cool-guy type.

“Have a good winter break then, Shūzō,” Tatsuya says, sliding the tips of his fingers into his coat pockets and leaning back in a cool, nonchalant pose.

Shūzō wants to punch the smile off of Tatsuya’s stupid, beautiful face. Or maybe kiss the smile. He doesn’t know anymore. He says, “Like that can happen after what you just did!”

“What are you talking about? Nothing happened.” 

Tatsuya is giving Shūzō a chance. Shūzō should take it and walk away. He has to go up to his apartment and pack for his trip home. There is no way he can have a casual, one-night-stand with Himuro Tatsuya, it’s either a relationship or nothing, and he is not yet ready to tell his mother that he won’t be finding himself a nice girl any time soon, that he might not be able to carry on the family line.

However, walking away from Tatsuya now means that their friendship will suffer. Shūzō can feel the wall rising between them already, frigid, miles high. It won’t be fun when they both return to their apartments after the break and become strangers. 

He won’t be allowed into Tatsuya’s messy, cozy apartment anymore, into the kitchen for study sessions, won’t be allowed to lounge around on his leather couch. No more first dibs on the candy and snacks that Tatsuya’s aunt sends from L.A. and is given to Murasakibara. He and Tatsuya won’t watch basketball games together anymore, watch Akashi and various other kōhai and Tatsuya’s “brother” getting recognition for something he and Tatsuya both want to achieve but have accepted that they can’t. 

He won’t be allowed to hang around while Tatsuya gets ready for a night out, tease Tatsuya as he blow-dries his bangs so that they can fall into a perfect emo shape over his left eye. No more trips to their favorite onsen after particularly grueling workweeks, watching the steam rising over Tatsuya face, the happy smile brightening his gray-green eyes, both visible as strands of his dark hair start to tighten into curls. The street basketball games - Tatsuya with him on the court, at his side, trading off on the shots, his loud dunks followed by Tatsuya’s elegant three-pointers - those will stop too.

Shūzō reminds himself that there will be an eventual reconciliation. Tatsuya isn’t an unreasonable person. He knows that close friends can have misunderstandings like these sometimes, no big deal. He will come to his senses eventually, realize that he can do better than the likes of Nijimura Shūzō, get over his mortification and hurt, and then they will be on speaking terms again. Maybe when they are thirty, brought together at a mutual friend’s wedding. Maybe at Tatsuya’s own wedding, the invitation sent to Shūzō’s mailbox a month earlier, glamorous and impersonal and a cold reminder of the past.

“What do you mean nothing happened?” Shūzō says, and before he can talk himself out of it, grabs Tatsuya’s wrist. 

He tugs Tatsuya into the nearest alley. It smells like rotting fruit and spoiled fish because of the dumpster. It’s not exactly a private place either, not with the windows facing the alley, lighted up from within, but the neighbors probably have better things to do than look out here and thereby accidentally witness his first serious romantic overtures. 

He gets ready by inhaling through his nose, trying to steady his heartbeat, like he used to when he had just made the First String at Teiko and was getting sent out onto the court during an official game. He can do this. He’s got this.

He can feel Tatsuya’s pulse beating underneath his fingers, an almost erratic rhythm that is at complete odds with the cool face, and that steadies Shūzō too, makes it easier to close his eyes and kiss Tatsuya. 

He finds that Tatsuya’s mouth is cold, firm, and nothing particularly special. Shūzō wanted it to be an amazing kiss, like one from a steamy K-drama, but it ends up like a disappointing K-drama kiss instead, one of those where the lead actor and actress, after like fifteen episodes of romantic angst and UST, hold their heads at stiff angles and just press their mouths together. Anticlimactic. Oh well. At least he delivered the message that he is interested.

After a long, awkward moment, Shūzō pulls back. Tatsuya’s eyes are closed, the eyelashes dark above his skin, above the beauty mark. Shūzō touches the mole with his thumb, and Tatsuya opens his eyes.

Shūzō clears his throat, asks, “Is this going to be a one-night thing?” 

“That’s your call, Shūzō,” Tatsuya replies.

Shūzō can’t make out Tatsuya’s expression that well in this darkness, and what is there to see anyway, but Tatsuya’s hand is soft and careful as he cups the side of Shūzō’s face. When they kiss this time, Tatsuya’s lips are gentle, curving into a warm smile against Shūzō’s mouth, and he puts his arms around Shūzō’s shoulders just as their mouths open, pulls him close, close enough that Shūzō can feel Tatsuya’s heartbeat through the lapels of their coats. When Tatsuya says, “Let’s continue this up in my room,” Shūzō agrees immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> Lucky and Penny, I’m so sorry, I hope this is close to what you wanted and not too awfully disappointing. -_-


End file.
